Loved You Once But He's My Forever (Chloe)

The sunlight illuminated Taylor's face, cold and unreadable, casting no warmth.

His brow furrowed, and his long, dark lashes concealed the emotions hidden behind his eyes.

He still wore his wedding shirt, pristine and white, paired with a wine-red bow tie.

Stains of dried blood tarnished the shirt, and dust clung to his clothes, a reminder of the long hours spent running without rest.

I once found his smile unsettling, almost unnatural, as if it never truly reached his eyes. But now, standing there without a smile, he seemed enveloped in a tragic, cold light, like a figure in the moon's shadow-isolated and sorrowful. Before Whitney collapsed, he kneeled beside her, cradling her fragile form in his arms.

Whitney, unable to bear the pain, bit into his shoulder, sobbing silently as tears flowed uncontrollably.

Taylor didn't flinch or pull away. Instead, he held her tighter, one hand gently cradling the back of her head. His voice was soft, tender. "It's okay. I'm here."

Whitney was so innocent, so pure he would protect her from any stain, not letting even a single drop of blood touch her.

He would not let her be trapped in guilt or sorrow.

If blame must be placed, if hatred must be directed, let it be at him.

He was willing to go to hell, to give his life in exchange for hers.

He only hoped that fate would give Whitney a way out, that she wouldn't lose all hope. He wanted her to live freely, without the burden of this nightmare ... He had never chosen this path, this captivity.

But if it was the only way to keep Whitney safe, he would carry the weight of every sin, just to shield her, his one light in this dark world.

Josh, the man Taylor had stabbed, didn't die instantly. The knife remained lodged in his body, and blood soaked his clothes rapidly. Kate, nearly losing consciousness several times, fought to stay awake by digging her nails into her thigh.

She feared that if she passed out, she wouldn't be there to witness Josh's final moments.

Even though her thoughts were clouded, there was nothing she could do.

All she could do was watch Josh bleed out, her own tears falling freely.

Josh struggled for every breath, crawling inch by inch toward me.

I watched the man who once loved me, hated me, and cursed me with the most hurtful words. The man I should've called father.

As a child, I had thought of him as the strongest, most comforting figure in the world.

When had his hair turned gray? When had his strength faded?

He had broken his leg, dragging himself across the ground like a frail, helpless creature.

My body reacted before my mind could process it-I moved forward and crouched beside him.

I didn't know what to say. It was as if a thousand words were trapped inside me.

But at the same time, it felt like an ocean separated us.

I had cried, regretted, and even decided to sever ties with the Sanders.

But now, standing there, my heart was torn in every direction. My mind was in turmoil, and I couldn't speak.

All I could do was watch as his lips trembled, his hand reaching toward me with whatever strength remained.

I bent down, letting his rough, bloodstained hand rest against my face.

His lips moved. "Back then... did you feel this much pain?"

Did I? Honestly, I could barely remember.

The fear had been worse than the pain. All I wanted was to escape, to survive.

On that cold, snowy night, I could only see my desperate figure running by the water. I thought about asking for help, about saying goodbye to my family, about seeing Luke one last time. But I never thought about how much pain I was in.

I didn't answer. I simply watched him.

With a great effort, Josh managed a weak smile. "At least... you're still alive."

His bloodstained finger traced my cheek. "I wasn't a good father. Don't cry for me. I'm not worth it..."

Cry?

Had I been crying?

Were the wet streaks on his face from my tears?

"I'm sorry, my little princess."

His hand fell away, and his eyelids slowly closed.

A sound escaped from deep within me, a heart-wrenching cry. "Dad!"

Grandma kneeled beside Ronald's grave, speaking softly. "Ronald, it's the Sanders fault. I've ruined your wife, ruined you, ruined your entire family. I'd go to the lowest depths of hell to make up for my sins, but my descendants are innocent. Please, if you can hear me, spare them."

Something felt off. I turned suddenly, shouting, "Grandma!"

"Chloe, it's my fault. I was too greedy, too stubborn. We could have all lived in peace if I hadn't let a

moment of darkness destroy then et`

Carlyns. I ruined you, ruined the Sanders bloodline. The one who should've died is me.

"Don't be sad, don't have much time left. Greg, I leave the Sanders to you! Anna, Chloe, forget everything from today. Hatred only leads to more hatred. Don't let it blind you.

Live your life. Be with those you love.

Live well ... "

I knew Grandma was to be blamed for everything, but I couldn't stand the thought of her dying before me.

I scrambled to my feet, stumbling toward her. "No! Grandma, don't!"

My body crashed to the ground. Sharp stones scraped my hands and knees, but I didn't care. I kept crawling, my vision blurred by tears, my mind clouded with panic. Grandma turned to Dominic with a peaceful smile. "Dominic, I've paid the price for everything I owe the Carlyns."

With those final words, she summoned every ounce of strength to slam into Ronald's gravestone.

I screamed in desperation, "No!"

While everyone's attention was focused on Grandma, Wisteria appeared behind me.

She raised her hand, a knife aimed directly at my back, just like the night of the ambush.

Splurt!

The blade sank into my flesh. Blood splattered before my eyes.

But I didn't feel pain.

I looked up, stunned, into the eyes of the man who held me tightly, his cold face softening just enough to offer a gentle smile. "Finally found you, my love."